Writing Prompt

Born to shining lights Free careless no burdens or pain

Life is a harsh punishment Designed to torture you Makes you get your hopes up only for them to come crashing down

Death the freedom It takes you at last freeing you from life From pain

Another day Another strays Towards the sun Pushing away

They climb the stairs White and fair Go up in life The steps are shared

The ones who fall Their faces glum Either ignored Or trying to run

Some are carried towards the sky Some are dragged to their demise

The happy are going up The upset step down It’s all very simple In this part of town

I like to sit Rest on one step I watch strangers pass Watch the sun set

The air rids of light And the sun slips away Small white dots replace The people I watched yesterday

Now the staircase is bare Everyone’s gone Except for the girl Who never played along

Each strand was carefully massaged, Follicles exfoliated and sun glare camouflaged. Barely three weeks old; his hair nourished each night. Comfy dreams in soft slumber, with tales of dragons, quests and an extraordinary knight. Sleep cherub faced boy. Sleep in contented joy.

Days pass to years as his lunch box was packed full. Nutritional lunch: fruit, egg salad sandwich and a raisin box; soon he was as strong as a bull. He kicked up a fuss and expressed his distain. His mother stood without a flinch, like the moonlight unflickering rain. Go cherub faced child. Go make friends and run wild.

Rinse and repeat. Avoid contact with eyes. The mother couldn’t remove her prideful smile from morning goodbyes. Back in her arms, washing his hair one last time. She reminded him “You need to wash it yourself from now on. It’s your grease and grime.” His cherub faced giggles. Her loving tickles.

Quickly time passes ever so fast. Baby bath time has left to live in the past. The mother stares contently at the flower patterned wall. Her son massages her weaken hair, every strand that might fall. Sleep tight kind mother dear, Sleep, as your cherub faced boy ... will always here.

Death is the inevitable truth of human existence. The one thing that no one, not even the most powerful can escape.

Or so they say.

It's not quite that simple anymore. Not after tonight. Tonight, there is work, the blasphemy of science itself, to behold. Tonight, a man's life will come to its long-awaited end. Tonight, a man closes his eyes, his breath slowing, his heart beating to a stop within. Death will claim him, as it has done so for countless humans over the millennia.

And then.

A spark of electricity. The humming of machinery. And a flash of light-

The man's eyes open once more. He does so with a scream, one so filled with pain and terror and anguish, that scientists who've surrounded his bed (anxiously awaiting the results of their experiment) will recoil in fear. There is something in his voice that rekindles the primal instincts hidden so deeply inside their minds.

The man will rise from his table, eyes bleeding red, and the soul-wrenching scream still issuing from his lips. He will lunge at the nearest person and wrap his hands around their shoulders, shaking them with an unnatural force.

He will beg them to send him back.

They will not.

Man is not meant to tamper with the realm of gods. And yet in their arrogance, they will continue to do so, in spite of the many warnings put in their way.

Birth.Being born.Starting maybe it’s starting over from your old life the one you don’t remember. Life.Living going through pain,rejection enjoying the happiest that slips away just a little bit to quick. And Death.No more pain, only you.In a box while everyone living stares at you crying while you smile.

Quick inhale Followed by sounds of alarm Eyes catch their first glimpse of light Soon after, embrace Of warmth and love Unknown but familiar

Baited breath Curious as to what adventures await Each day a new story Are lives written as fate Or just answers from the roll of a Die

Slow, unsteady breathing Many years have passed The story almost over The inevitable end Breath in Breath out In Out

In

Out

In

Out

Everything on this planet has a beginning, middle, and end. There’s no code to change that. With no choice, we are born, resulting from the actions of two individuals. These two individuals may or may not raise you. Whoever does, may or may not want to, or necessary be able to. This decides a humans entire “middle” life. The environment one is raised in forms a human into a person. An individual. With individual thoughts, feelings, priorities, fears. It forms ones story. Nobody will ever live or understand anothers story. — Now. The end. Many pass from health issues, or old age. However, people forget that many deaths are caused or revolves around the “middle life” of a person. You can never see one’s full middle life. You can never understand their thoughts, feelings, priorities, or fears. You can never understand one’s life. Life is very difficult to read. Stop pretending youre fluent.

Life was a lot easier when I was smaller. You know, back when I was nothing more than a cluster of cells with a heart beat. I don’t remember much about those days but I always felt protected. There was more room in the beginning. I could swim around, doing flips as I went. As I grew my space lessened. Then one day I flipped upside down. I could feel the walls caving in on me, there was so much pressure. I was leaving. At first I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay where I felt safe and warm. It didn’t matter, my time had come. It was okay because I knew there was something out there bigger than me. I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t always here it. But I knew it loved me. I called it mother. And just like that, life as I knew it was over. I was taken to my mother.

Life was a lot easier when I was smaller. You know, back when I was just a kid. I don’t remember much about those days but I always felt safe. The earth felt so big in the beginning, yet the older I became the smaller it felt. I lived for many years until one day I felt my life turn upside down. I could feel my chest caving in, there was pressure around my heart. I was leaving. At first I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay and feel the warm love of my family. It didn’t matter, my time had come. It was okay because I knew there was something out there bigger than me. I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t always hear it. But I knew it loved me. I called it God. And just like that, life as I knew it was over. I was taken to God.

Hospitals have always fucked me up. To begin my life, I was born in one. My grandma would always tell me this story, I don’t know what her reasoning behind it was, but quite frequently she’d sit me down on her lap, or when I got too big I’d just sit down beside her. We’d sit in the living, she’d hold an old picture frame. She would cry for a few minutes before moving on to the start of the story. “Baby,” she would always start with. “Your grandpa and I were sitting in the waiting room, waiting for you to be born. You were going to be our pride and joy, you know? Your mother had tried so many times to give us our grandbaby, and when they announced you, grandpa and I were off the walls.” She would stop to stare down at the picture for a few minutes, smiling as her fingers ran over the person sitting beside her. “Grandpa started feeling unwell there. You were far from here, so we stepped down to talk to another doctor about how he was feeling. His left arm was hurting him really bad, and he didn’t have much breath. The last memory I have of your grandpa was them wheeling him away to treat his oncoming heart attack.” She would shake her head at this point, covering her mouth every time. “Grandpa died at 7:42 in the evening, and we welcomed you at 7:54, just a few minutes later. His funeral was also your first introduction to the world. That’s where we showed you off, to everyone.” She’d begin stroking my face now, always very fragile. Like any moment she too would break. “You have his smile, you know. That little tooth gap you have, no one else but grandpa had it. When I look at you, I think about him. He was the love of my life, I guess he still is. You’re a close second, baby.”

Eyes close as she holds him gently, She makes sure to remain tranquil For her entire world is in her arms. The Life she created as fragile as the porcelain on the shelf nearby. Missing the glisten his eyes bring with every moment he rests.

Years pass, his delicacy grows thin as does his mothers figure. Aging quickly as he begins to search for meaning within. Building a legacy in his mother’s name after she loses to a curse within

He remembers that day like it was yesterday They sat on the bridge by the lake, She told him about when she was his age, Just over there. Beyond the trees, her father took her out and told her the same story about his father and him. Sitting on the bridge and talking about their legacy.

He reached in his pants and he pulled out a locket. On one side, his mother and him. This photo he recognized. On the other side, a young girl and her father. The photo was aged and lacked color but he could tell by looking at both sides,

The eyes had passed on as did the story. Those eyes were his mothers. He recognized them in his grandfather too,

For when he placed the locket back, he looked up to see his daughters eyes glisten with the same sparkle.

Hoping to one day pass along the story to her and to know that no matter whether he is there or not, the legacy will always remain.